Loss
by MacsLady
Summary: Mac investigates the murder of a single mother. The case brings memories of Mac's own losses. All CSI: NY characters are the property of the writers. I have intentionally left Hawkes out of this fic. It is set in s7-time.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1.

It was a bitterly cold November night in New York City. At this late hour, the streets were fairly quiet by New York standards, the cold and dark keeping people inside, and causing those who were outside to hurry as fast as they could to someplace warm. The people on the street hurried along, bundled up in thick coats, their heads covered in hats and the lower portion of their faces covered by scarves.

Jenna Malone was closing up the diner where she worked. Her thoughts were on her children, Todd and Katie. Todd would already be on his way home from Iraq. She couldn't wait to see him. She worried about him so much when he was over there, with all those horrible IED things she was always hearing about on the news. She hoped little Katie was asleep, and hadn't talked old Mrs Weiss into letting her stay up late again. A few muffins hadn't been sold, and Salvatore, the owner of the diner, had insisted she take them home for Katie, who was like a granddaughter to the old man.

Suddenly, the door opened. Jenna looked up, to inform the customer that the diner was closed, but the words froze on her lips as she saw the figure in the doorway. He was slim and stood about five foot five. His hands were white. She couldn't see his face because it was covered by a balaclava. What she could see, all too clearly, was the black gun in his hand.

The figure moved into the diner, and stood about a foot away from the counter.

'Gimme the money, bitch,' he said. His voice shocked Jenna, he sounded so _young_ she thought.

Jenna opened the till and took out the money. Salvatore had told all his staff to always just hand over the money in a situation like this, saying he'd rather lose a day's takings than a member of put the money, about $150, on the counter.

'Where the fuck is the rest of it?' screamed the robber.

'I...there isn't any more.'

'You're lying!' he yelled, and he pulled the trigger on the gun.

Jenna Malone's last thoughts were of her children.

_Todd. Katie. Oh, my babies. I'm sorry...so sorry._

Mac was awake when the call came in just before 5am. He had been awake for a couple of hours, having jerked awake, sweating, from a nightmare. He had showered and made himself coffee, and was looking over some case files he'd brought home. Focusing on the boring but necessary paperwork helped him push the images of his nightmare to the furtherest possible reaches of his mind, where it was almost possible to ignore them. _Images of Sgt. Lucas, of the blood staining his desert cammies, of the absolute terror in the man's voice as he screamed. Of the man's steel blue eyes fixed on his as Mac, virtually unaware of his own injuries, knelt over him in the back of the helicopter as it lifted off. Their Navy corpsman, Simmons, was already dead, his lifeless body lying next to Lucas. Mac's uniform was stained with his own blood and that of Lucas, who he had dragged to the helicopter while the remainder of his team returned fire with their ambushers. Mac had been hit sometime between getting to Lucas and getting back to the others, or so they told him later, all he remembered was falling to the ground as he felt something impact his body, then dragging himself up and continuing to drag Lucas to safety. _

'_Captain Taylor, sir, you're hurt, sir. You should...' _

'_Goddamn it, Corporal Weaver, not now. Help me with Lucas first, he's not gonna die. You hear that, Lucas, you're not going to die, do you get that?' Mac was dimly aware of Weaver beside him, trying to stem the bleeding from Lucas's abdominal wound while Mac tried to stop the wound in the man's chest. He had no idea how much time passed when Weaver said, softly, his voice breaking,_

'_He's dead, sir. Lucas is dead.'_

'_No...fucking no...' Mac barely whispered._

The dream always ended there. Mac had jerked awake in the darkness of his room, and as always, in that moment, missed Claire with a piercing desperation and sense of loneliness, as intense as that of the time immediately after her death. He missed how, when he awoke from the nightmare, she would gently ease him back down to the bed, pulling his head to her chest and stroking his hair with one hand while holding him close to her with her other arm. She never spoke in those moments, never asked him what the dream was about, she was just there, silently offering him comfort and love, and he would close his eyes and let the tension and fear drain from his body as she held him. Now she was gone, he could only get up and try to lose himself in work, to try and stave off the memories of the nightmare, and of her.

When his cell rang, it took Mac's tired, paperwork-befuddled mind a second or two to place the sound. He answered it.

'Taylor.'

'Mac, it's Jo. We've got a case. Female vic, late forties. Gunshot.'

Mac closed his eyes briefly.

'Where?' he said.

'Queens, Maspeth, Salvatore's Diner,' said Jo, and gave him the address. 'Don and I are headed to the scene now.'

'I'll be there soon,' Mac said.

He hung up, changed quickly from the ancient Marines t-shirt and black boxers he wore to bed into his work clothes, got his gun, and headed out the door. He wondered what further depravities of humanity this case would reveal. A woman in her forties could have a husband or partner, maybe even children. People to whom Mac would. yet again, break the worst news it was possible to receive. People whose lives would be changed forever by a single act of violence. Mac sighed as he climbed into his truck. He felt an all too familiar weariness settle on his shoulders as he headed for the crime scene.

As Mac ducked under the yellow crime scene tape, he felt the bitter cold bite through his latex gloves, freezing his fingers, felt the icy blast of the wind nip at his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

For a moment, the sensation took him back to his childhood in Chicago, playing football with his friends in the street, not wearing gloves because that was the cool thing to do, his fingers frozen as he waited for the ball, his breath puffing out like smoke, running and skidding and falling with his friends, their laughter loud in the cold air.

As he entered the diner, the happy memory faded to be replaced by all too familiar feelings of sadness and anger. Behind the counter lay the body of a woman Mac estimated to be in her mid-forties, wearing a blue uniform blouse over jeans. The blouse was saturated with blood. The woman's blue eyes were open and staring. Lindsay was taking pictures of the body while Danny dusted for prints. Flack was accompanying a man Mac placed somewhere in his sixties out of the diner. The man's horrified eyes met Mac's.

'Someone killed her. There is no money in till. I think it was a robbery. But there was only $150 dollars in till. Who would kill someone over that? I always say to my staff, if a robber comes, give them the money. Just give it. So why would they shoot her? Why?'

He kept repeating the question as Flack guided him out of the door. Mac wondered the same thing. _Was_ this just a robbery? If it was, why kill the woman after she'd handed tge contents of the till over?

He walked over to the body, where Jo was, and crouched beside her.

'44 year old female, her name was Jenna Malone. She closed up here last night. Salvatore, the guy Flack was taking out? He owns the diner. Says he last saw her at midnight when he left. That's all we could get out of him for now.' Jo said.

'Gunshot wound to the chest,' Mac noted, 'From the amount of damage and blood, our shooter would have been, what, 2 to 3 feet away?'

Jo nodded.

'Till was open, which suggests robbery,' she said, 'Our killer dropped this.'

She held up a plastic evidence bag with a $20 bill inside. The bill was spotted with blood spatter and Mac saw the partial imprint of a shoe on it.

'Partial shoe imprint,' he said, 'Maybe we'll get a match.'

Jo nodded.

The ME van arrived and the woman's body was covered and taken away. Mac felt an indescribable sadness as he watched the procedure. When this woman had started her day, she'd had no idea it would end like this. A woman her age might well have a husband or partner, and kids. People Mac would have to break the worst possible news to.

'Do we have any further information on our vic?' he asked.

'We found her handbag in her locker out back,' Jo said, gesturing to some evidence bags laid nearby.

'Anything to give us more idea of who she was?' Mac asked.

'Regular woman stuff, make up, a hairbrush, keys, old bus tickets and a Metro Card. A book. And this, in her purse. It gets worse, Mac.'

Thinking of the dead woman, of her frozen eyes, of her carefully ironed uniform blouse covered in blood, of the lousy $150 dollars that seemed to be the motive for the crime, of the utter _waste_ and sadness of it all, Mac wondered how it could possibly get worse. Jo handed him a photograph in a clear plastic evidence bag, and Mac felt the grief and fury hit him again, seem to rise from the pit of his stomach up his throat like bile. He took a harsh breath.

The photo showed the woman, smiling broadly, standing next to a young man in his early twenties, in a Marine uniform, lieutenant's bars gleaming. In front of the young Marine, with his hands on her shoulders, stood a smiling girl, with big blue eyes and a dark mess of hair who looked about five or six years old. Flipping the photo over, Mac saw written on the back _'Todd, Katie and me.'_

The picture was dated 2008, three years ago, which would put the young Marine somewhere in his mid-twenties, and the girl at maybe eight or nine years old.

Somewhere out there, in the early morning darkness of the winter-bound city, two children were not even yet aware that they had suffered an unimaginable loss.

Mac closed his eyes briefly, as sorrow washed over him. It was moments like this when he truly struggled to cope with the sheer pointless brutality of the world.

'Mac?' Jo asked, concern in her voice.

Letting out a slow breath, Mac pushed the sorrow away into the darker recesses of his mind. He felt no hot fury now, that he pushed away for later. Now, he felt only a hard, cold, determination. He opened his eyes and met Jo's.

'We're going to find the bastard who did this, Jo.'

Jo read the look on Mac's face. She saw how he had controlled, if only for a while, the intense emotions the scene inevitably evoked, and how he'd used some of that emotion to fuel that now calm, yet utterly deadly, determination she saw in his eyes and heard in his voice. She felt a similar determination rise in her, allowing her to push away the anger and grief that had been throbbing through her ever since she arrived at the scene.

'Damn straight,' she said.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

Mac stepped into the autopsy room, inhaling it's familiar cold, clinical scent.

Sid looked up from the table where he was working on Jenna Malone.

'Mac,' he greeted.

'Sid. What have we got?' Mac said crossing to him.

'Cause of death was two shots to the chest,' Sid said, pointing out the fatal injuries. 'She would have died almost instantly. Time of death was approximately 2am.'

Mac nodded, rubbed his eyes. His shoulders ached with tension, and he felt the beginnings of a dull, throbbing headache in his temples.

'You okay, Mac?' Sid asked.

'I'm fine,' Mac said, 'Did you find bullets?'

Sid looked at him for a second or two longer, then nodded. He picked up a small glass jar which contained two bullets. Mac noted that they were both in fairly good condition, it might be possible to get a match, either to a suspect's weapon or even to a weapon in the system. Then again, it might not.

'9mm rounds,' Sid said, handing them over.

'Thanks, Sid. I'll get these to Adam for comparison.'

He turned to leave but Sid said,

'Mac?'

Mac turned back. Sid proffered a pack of Tylenol.

'Figured you might need these,' he said.

Mac's lips twitched into a slight smile.

'Thanks, Sid,' he said, taking the packet.

After giving the bullets to Adam, Mac headed to the conference room, where Jo, Flack, Danny, and Lindsay waited.

Sitting himself at the head of the table, he swigged some coffee from a paper take-out cup Jo handed him. It was good coffee, and hot, and he smiled at her in gratitude before addressing the team.

'Okay, I know it's early yet, but let's go over what we've got,' he said, 'I just finished up with Sid. He puts time of death at approximately 2am. Cause of death is two gunshots to the chest. Gun was a 9mm. I have Adam working on the bullets now. Jo?'

'I checked city and police records for Jenna Malone. She lives in Maspeth, about half an hour from the diner. Age 47, DOB is 21st April 1964. She's worked at the diner for nine years, since her youngest child, Katie was born. She also has an older child, a son, Todd Malone. He's 24 and is currently deployed in Iraq with the Marines. He's a First Lieutenant. I can't find anything else out about where exactly he is,'

'I'll call a friend of mine in the Marines,' Mac said, 'He'll find out for me. Don, did you get anything from the interview with Salvatore Gianni?'

'He says Jenna was one of his best workers. He treated her like his second-in-command, she looked out for all the younger staff. He said she had no enemies. He mentioned Todd's father died back in 1999. He doesn't know much about Katie's father. Jenna raised her and Todd alone. All he said was that Jenna told him Katie's father was a no good son of a bitch and she'd got shot of him. Far as he, and her best friend at the diner, one Maya Devine, knew, she had no boyfriends. Maya told me Jenna said she didn't need a man when she had her kids.'

'Sensible lady,' Jo murmured. Mac smiled briefly.

'Okay, good. See if you can find out more about her ex, Katie's father. Danny, Lindsay, what did you find at the scene?'

'The bloody print on the $20 bill comes from a generic trainer. We might be able to match the tread pattern with an individual shoe,' Danny said.

'No useful fingerprints anywhere our perp is likely to have touched,' Lindsay added, 'Only fingerprints on the till belong to the staff. Nothing useful on the bill, the blood is a match to Jenna's. Footprint is *in* the blood, so definitely our perp's.'

'Okay,' Mac said, 'That's all good. I'm going to see if I can find out where Todd Malone is. Don, did Salvatore or any of Jenna's colleagues mention where Katie might be?'

'Maya Devine said Jenna's neighbor, a Mrs Weiss, looked after Katie after school when her mom was at work, and when she had to work late, Katie would sleep over there.'

'Okay. Don, when I've spoken to my contact in the Marines, we'll go and talk to the neighbour and let her know Katie might have to stay with her a while, at least until we can locate Todd Malone. Until then, see what you can track down about Jenna's ex-boyfriend. Danny, Lindsay go back to processing whatever evidence we have from the scene. Jo, see if you can find any other friends of Jenna's we can talk to, we need to find out whether this crime was personal or a random killing.'

Looking around the table, Mac saw how tired his team looked. He felt exhausted himself.

'Listen up,' he said, 'I know we're all tired and right now this case seems to be going nowhere. With Hawkes in Memphis, we're all going to have to take on a little more of the load on this one. If we work the evidence, something *will* come up, and that's what we're going to do. This isn't just another shooting. This is the cold blooded murder of the mother of two children. Work your leads, then go home for a rest for a few hours. But as far as I'm concerned, this is our *only* case right now, and we're going to give it all we've got.'

Around the table, the tired looking members of Mac's team nodded. The weary slouch disappeared from their postures as they stood and left to go and do what needed to be done. Where before there had been a sense of frustration and anger, now there was focus. Mac could see each of them channeling their anger and frustration into readiness to work their respective leads.

As he rose and left the conference room behind them, his headache steadily building, he could only hope that it would pay off. Despite his words, and his determination to solve the case, he knew this case would be a tough one, whatever the outcome, and he needed to get his team through it.

Mac dialed a number on his office phone.

After only two rings, it was picked up, and a rough, gravelly voice barked,

'Colonel Green.'

'Hey, Tommy, it's Mac,'

'Mac Taylor? Damn, it's been a while,' Green replied, the brusque tone leaving his voice. 'How've you been, Mac?'

'Up and down,' Mac replied honestly, 'I have good days and bad days,' To most people, Mac would have replied that he was fine, but he and Green and been through too much together for him to put up any pretense with the man.

'I hear you. You still working at the crime lab in New York?'

'Yeah,'

'I've got some time off coming up next month. You should book some time off and we should head to Chicago.'

Mac smiled.

'That would be good, Tommy.'

'So, Mac, I know you're not just calling to shoot the breeze, what can I do for you?'

'I need to track down a Todd Malone. First Lieutenant. Currently deployed in Iraq. His mother was murdered in the early hours of this morning.'

'Fuck,' Green swore, 'Let me check for you, Mac, hang on,'

A few minutes later, he said,

'Got him. His platoon's headed home for some R&R. They should be touching down late this afternoon, your time. Malone'll be catching a second plane to JFK. He'll be in New York I guess early evening.'

'Thanks, Tommy, I'll arrange for someone to pick him up,'

'You take care of the boy, Mac.'

'I will,' Mac said.

He hung up. Green's strong Chicago accent triggered memories for Mac. Back when he was a Captain in Recon, Green had been his Major, and Lucas his Sgt. Lucas too was from Chicago.

_A week before the ambush that would kill Lucas and Simmons. The one that would earn Mac his second Bronze Star. They were at their latest observation point. A quiet moment. Mac walking round checking on his men. He came across Lucas resting, sitting alone, looking at a photo in his hand, the biggest grin Mac had ever seen on his face. Lucas was quiet, steady, serious, and in the two years Mac had known him, he'd never seen the man look this purely happy._

'_Lucas, what's got you grinning like that?' he asked, sitting by him._

_Lucas's grin widened._

'_Got me a son, Captain,' he said, 'He was born about a month ago, and I just got a letter and his picture from Liz, that's my wife. Look, sir, just *look* at him. Isn't he just the most fucking amazing thing you ever saw?'_

_He handed Mac a photograph. Mac took it. It showed a pretty woman with dark blonde hair, holding a baby in her arms. The baby, Mac could see, had Lucas's blue eyes._

'_That's definitely pretty fucking amazing, Lucas,' he said, 'You named him yet?'_

_Lucas took the picture back and carefully tucked it into his pocket._

'_Yessir. His name's Ben. Ben Lucas.'_

'_You're a lucky man, Lucas. You'll be a great father.'_

'_You think, Captain?'_

'_I know,' Mac said, 'I see how you are with the men. If you can manage a platoon of Recon Marines, Lucas, I think you can raise a kid.'_

_Lucas grinned even wider, as Mac punched him lightly on the shoulder then got up to finish his rounds of the men._

_One week later, Lucas lay dead on the cold metal floor of the chopper. Mac gently closed the man's eyes and dug into the pocket where he'd seen Lucas put the photo. It was still there, and because Lucas had wrapped it in a plastic bag, and the wound to his chest was on his other side, it was undamaged, though the bag was stained with Lucas's blood. Mac stared at the photo. The pretty woman. The beautiful baby boy. Ben. Lucas's son, who he would never meet now. Mac swore, felt tears trickle down his cheeks. He clutched the photo in his hand which was stained with sand and blood, Lucas's and his own, and he lowered his head and felt the hot tears fall down his cheeks._

'Mac? You okay, buddy?'

Mac snapped back to the present, saw Don standing in the doorway, a worried expression on his face.

He breathed out, long and slow.

'Yeah, I'm fine,' he lied, 'Are you ready to go and talk to the neighbour?'

Don looked at him in silence for a moment, then nodded.

'Yeah. '

'Let's go,' Mac said, grabbing his jacket and following Don out of his office and down the hall.

'So, what did you get on Jenna's ex?' he said as they took the elevator to the ground floor.

'Guy's name was Lewis Jones. He has a record, petty stuff, DUI's, possession, prostitutes. Not a nice guy. Killed himself two years back. Crashed his car while driving drunk and high.'

'So not a suspect, then,' Mac said. 'Damn. That might make this a random killing.'

Sensing his friend's frustration, Don said,

'Hey, we have the shoe print, and the bullets. They might pan out.'

Mac nodded, sighed.

'You're right, Don,' he said.

They got into Mac's car and headed for Jenna's neighbourhood. Mac's frustration over the lack of leads in the case was replaced by dread of what he now had to do. He had to tell a nine year old girl her mother was never coming home again. Somewhere a young Marine was on his way home from what no doubt was a rough tour of duty, probably excited about seeing his mother and his sister, with no idea that his mother was dead and that in the absence of any other relatives, he was now the sole person responsible for his sister. It was no sort of homecoming, Mac thought, bitterly. It was cruel and unfair, and there was nothing he could do to change it.

They pulled up in Jenna's neighbourhood. Jenna and Mrs Weiss lived next door to each other in a row of neat single-family homes. As they walked up the steps to Mrs Weiss's door, Mac glanced over at Jenna's house. Nothing stood out about it, marked it out as a house where tragedy had struck, a house in which life would never be the same. Mac shivered slightly in the bitter wind, and felt a bone-aching weariness settle over him. How many times had he knocked on doors just like this one, told the people inside that a random act had devastated their lives forever, snatched a loved one away. Seen their reactions of anger and sadness and disbelief and fear and confusion? More times than he could count, or would ever want to count. And here he was, doing it yet again.

'I hate this,' Flack said quietly, weariness in his tone.

Mac just nodded.

He knocked on the door.

Moments later, a tiny old lady opened it. She wore jeans and a purple blouse with flowers on. She had sharp blue eyes behind pink glasses.

'Yes?' she said.

'Ma'am, I'm Detective Taylor from the New York Crime Lab, and this is Detective Flack from the Police Department,' he said gently as they both showed their IDs.

'Oh, no,' Mrs Weiss said, 'Oh, no. Something happened to Jenna, didn't it? Oh, God.'

'How did you know?' Flack asked as she let them in and led them down a hallway that smelled of fresh baked cookies.

'She did not call last night or this morning. Even if she cannot pick up Katie at night time because she is working the late shift at the diner, she always leaves a message on my machine to tell Katie she loves her and what time she will be home. Nothing this time.

Sit here,' she said, leading them into the living room and gesturing to a couch. 'You want coffee?'

They both declined, and the old lady took a seat opposite them.

'What happened?' she asked.

Mac told her.

'Ah, God. How awful. Poor Katie. Poor Todd. He is coming home today. He has been away in Iraq fighting for his country, and he comes back to this?' she said, grief and anger in her voice.

Mac just nodded, wearily.

'What will happen with Katie?'

'A colleague of mine spoke to Child Services. As Todd is on his way home and old enough to be Katie's guardian, we'll take her back with us so that Todd can meet her at our lab,' Mac said, 'We'll send an officer to collect Todd at the airport.'

'I can go,' Mrs Weiss said, 'If you take Katie back with you, I'll get Todd and tell him the news and bring him to you. I think he would feel better seeing me at the airport and not a policeman. I would like to tell him the news, if that is okay. He and Katie, they are like my own grandchildren. Jenna was like a daughter to me.'

Mac nodded. 'That would be fine,' he said, giving her the lab's address.

'What happens now?' Mrs Weiss asked.

Mac didn't know what to tell her.

'My Mom is dead, isn't she?' came a voice from behind them.

Mac and Flack turned as a girl with dark brown hair and blue eyes walked towards them from the doorway into the hall. Her face was pale, her eyes shocked. She was the same girl from the photograph they'd found amongst Jenna's belongings.

'Katie,' Mrs Weiss said, her voice full of grief. Katie ignored her and walked closer to Mac and Flack. She looked between them for a few seconds, then walked closer to Mac. She stopped in front of him, and her eyes locked on his.

'She is dead, isn't she?' she asked, her voice quiet and serious, but with a tremor to it that made Mac's chest ache and his throat tighten with sadness.

He met her eyes.

'Yes, she is,' he said softly, 'I'm so sorry.'

Katie tilted her head slightly and examined him, then nodded. Her lip trembled, and a single tear fell down her cheek, but she did not burst into tears. Mac knew that later the damn would burst, Katie's grief and all the other emotions she would feel bursting forth uncontrollably, but for now, he recognized, she was in a numbing state of shock. He'd felt the same on that horrible Tuesday, after his panic and fear for Claire had been replaced by the terrible knowledge that she was dead. For him, that knowledge had hit as he knelt and prayed over the body of the dead fireman in an abandoned store not far from the devastated Trade Center site.

'Did a bad person kill her?' Katie asked.

'Yes,' Mac said.

'What about Todd? I want Todd. I want my brother,' Katie said, her voice tiny and scared.

'We're going to take you back to my lab, and Mrs Weiss is going to collect Todd and bring him there too. You can see him soon. He'll be home this evening.'

Katie nodded slowly.

'Okay,' she said. 'I'll come with you then. You promise Todd is coming?'

'I promise,' Mac said. Katie gave him a searching look, then nodded.

'I like you,' she said, 'I'm glad it was you who came to tell me. You remind me of Todd. I don't know why.'

Mac was surprised. Not by Katie's apparent calm, he knew shock was the cause of that, but by her maturity, and by her seemingly instant trust in him, in a man who had just told her the worse possible news in the world.

'Katie, sweetheart, do you want a hug?' Mrs Weiss asked.

Katie turned to her, and they hugged for a long time, then Mrs Weiss murmured something in her ear, and Katie left.

'She's just going to get some things,' the old lady told Mac and Flack. 'If she and Todd need a place to stay tonight, they can stay here.'

'Thank you, ma'am,' Flack said.

'Are you going to catch the bastard who did this?' she asked.

'We're going to do everything we can,' Mac said, and Flack nodded.

'Good. I hope he rots in hell,' Mrs Weiss said.

Five minutes later, Flack headed down the steps of Mrs Weiss's house. Mac walked behind, with Katie holding his hand. After hugging Mrs Weiss again at the door, she'd wordlessly slipped her hand into Mac's and gripped it fiercely as though hanging onto him for dear life. Mac had been surprised, but sensing she'd needed the contact, and that for whatever reasons of her own she'd latched on to him, let her, not commenting on the fact.

Katie sat in a room with a big table and a big tv screen on the wall. She was trying to read a book, but her mind was whirling. She felt a horrible sadness like she'd never felt before, _ever_. She understood her Mom was dead, but she couldn't cry. She could feel the tears tight in her chest, filling her, wanting to burst out, but they would not. She felt angry too. She hated the person who had killed her Mom. Hated the whole stupid world, except for Todd and Mrs Willis, and that nice Detective Taylor who had told her the horrible news. She guessed he had to do that a lot, tell people that someone they loved was dead, and she supposed often people hated him for it. But she didn't. It wasn't his fault. He seemed nice. Quiet, and serious, but caring. Like Todd. Something else about him reminded her of Todd, too. Not his eyes or voice or that he was quiet and serious and caring like Todd, but more something in just the way he _was._ She didn't know what that was, exactly, but it made her trust him. She liked him too because although he'd told her the horrible. dreadful, worst-ever news, at least he'd told her. He'd been honest. He hadn't babied her or treated her like a little kid. He hadn't said something stupid like her Mom wouldn't be coming home again or that she'd been 'hurt badly' like people said on TV sometimes. He'd told her the truth, and she liked him for that. She didn't like this woman he'd left her with though, telling her he had to go away for a while so he could work on finding out who killed her Mom. The woman's name was Lindsay, and she had asked Katie fifteen times already how she was doing. What a stupid question. She had also told her that everything would be 'all right' which was not only stupid, but a lie. She also talked to Katie like she was a baby, her tone all patronizing (Katie had learnt that word a few weeks ago in English) which just made Katie even angrier. Why couldn't she just be left alone? She just wanted to be alone, until Todd came for her. Or at least with Detective Taylor, who she sensed wouldn't ask her stupid questions but probably just sit there quietly. Todd did that with her. She loved to just sit with him and both of them read or watch a show or movie (he let her watch films that her mother never would have, with vampires and swearing and guns and stuff.)

The thought of her mother, the knowledge that she would never again tell Katie she shouldn't watch a movie, and of Todd, who she missed now so badly it hurt, caused tears ti finally spill from her eyes. Her sadness and anger exploded from her, finally, in a great big gush like a waterfall and fire from a dragon's mouth all at the same time. She jumped up from the table, throwing her book at the wall and sending her chair falling to the floor. The woman cop, Lindsay, jumped up too, looking shocked.

'It's...it's...it's NOT FAIR!' Katie screamed, tears pouring down her face, her fists clenching. She *hated* the bad person who had killed her Mom, she wanted for that person to DIE. Why had they had to go and kill her beautiful, lovely Mom, who had never hurt anyone, just to get some stupid money? She hated them. She hated the whole world. She hated Lindsay for stepping towards her, face full of pity, saying,

'Baby, it's all right...'

'I'm NOT a goddamn baby and it's NOT all right! It's NOT FAIR!' Katie yelled.

'You're right,Katie,' said a quiet voice from the doorway.

She looked past Lindsay and saw the Detective Taylor. Mac she remembered, that was his first name. He walked towards her and knelt so his green eyes were looking right into hers. He lightly rested his hands on her shoulders. Katie didn't see pity in his eyes, only sadness.

'Give us a second, Lindsay,' he said softly, and Katie was aware of her leaving the room.

'You're right, Katie. Your mom being killed, it's not right. It's unfair, and unjust, and none of us could do anything to stop it. Unfortunately, that's just how the world works sometimes. I wish it could be that only really bad people got hurt and killed, but unfortunately, sometimes it's good people, like your mom, who are hurt. People we love. People who mean everything to us. I know you're angry and sad and lots of other things, Katie, and I guess right now you're mad at just about the whole stinking world, aren't you?'

Katie sniffled, wiped at her tears. It was like Mac could see into her mind, read her thoughts. It was like...like he understood.

'Yeah,' she said.

'I'm going to be honest with you Katie, because I think you're smart enough and brave enough to understand what I'm going to say. Your mom's death wasn't fair. There's nothing anyone can do to change that. But I'm going to do all I can to catch the person who did this and put them in prison, so that they will suffer for what they did.'

'It won't bring her back though, will it?' Katie said, quietly, sniffling again.

'No, honey, it won't,' he said, gently.

Katie nodded. She knew that. It hurt to know that, but she liked that Mac was being honest with her again, not lying to her to make things better.

'It might help, though,' Mac continued,

'Because I will know who killed her and they will go to prison, and then they won't hurt anyone else?' Katie said. She thought that maybe if the horrible, disgusting person who killed her mom was put in prison, it would help. She hoped they went to prison until they were too old to have a life anymore, or until they died. She hoped they would suffer in there.

Mac nodded.

'Will it always hurt like this, this much?' she asked him.

He sighed.

'It will always hurt, Katie. Some days worse than others. But you'll have Todd to take care of you, and Mrs Willis. They'll be there for you. When it hurts the most, you have to talk to them about it, okay? That will help.'

She nodded, wiping at her eyes again.

'Can I maybe talk to you too, if I wanted?' she asked.

'Of course.' he said. He took a card from his pocket and said, 'here, this is my phone number. You can call me anytime you want, but you should ask Todd first, okay?'

Katie took the card and tucked it safely into her pocket. She nodded.

She still felt sad and angry, but now Mac had told her that was okay, she didn't feel like she was going to explode or cry until she couldn't breathe, or hit someone. She felt calmer, soothed by his genuine understanding and his honesty.

'Mac?' she asked.

'Yes?'

'Can I ask you something else?'

'Sure, honey, what?'

'Did you lose somebody you loved too? Because when you were talking just now about how unfair it is when people we love get hurt or killed, and how it will always hurt, you looked...' she paused, trying to find words, 'you looked really, really sad. Not like you felt sorry for me, but like you understand.'

Katie watched him closely. His green eyes filled with a pain so sharp and sudden that Katie felt her heart stop in her chest for a second, and her throat constrict. The look in his eyes seemed to mirror exactly what she felt.

'Yes,' he said softly, and his voice sounded broken, 'Yes. I...my wife died. Almost ten years ago now.'

'Oh...' said Katie, unable to think of words. 'How?'

'Do you know what 9/11 was, Katie?'

She nodded.

'Yes. Bad men flew planes into the World Trade Center and into the Pentagon and another one they were maybe gonna fly into the White House, but the passengers stopped them and it crashed in a field. My mom told me about in September. She said I was old enough to know, now. And it was on tv. We had a silence at school too, for all the people who died.I've seen _United 93_ with Todd too. It made me sad.'

Mac nodded.

'My wife, she was...' his voice sounded choked now, like he was having trouble breathing around a lump in his throat, and Katie understood entirely how that felt. She swallowed hard, feeling a similar lump in her own throat.

'She was in the World Trade Center. She worked there. She died.'

'That's really unfair,' Katie said.

He nodded.

'Yeah. Yeah it is.'

'And you still miss her?'

'Every day,' he said.

'What was her name?' Katie asked.

'Claire,' he said softly, and Katie heard so much love in that word. He said his wife's name like her mom had said Katie's name, and Todd's, with absolute love filling the one word and making it seem bigger and more important, like the most important thing in the world.

'My mom's name was Jenna,' Katie said, 'Sometimes, when I was really sad or was hurt or sick, I would call her 'Mama'. I'm a bit big for that now, but sometimes I would still call her that. Mama.'

Mac smiled sadly at her, and nodded. He didn't say anything, but Katie could see the sadness and understanding in his eyes. He *knew* what it was like to be where she was right now.

Katie felt tears filling her eyes again, as thoughts of her Mama filled her mind. The anger she'd felt moments before was gone, and now she only felt unbearably sad and missed her mom so much it made every little part of her hurt. Without thinking about it, she stepped closer to Mac and wrapped her arms around his neck. She buried her face into his strong shoulder, and sobbed

'I..I...I want her back,' she sobbed out.

Mac's arms came around her, and he held her close.

'I know,' he said, his voice softer, and sadder, than she'd ever heard anyone's be, 'I know.'

He felt so warm, and strong, and safe, and Katie bawled into his shirt, clinging to him, finding, for the first time since she'd learnt of her mother's death, release.

Mac held the sobbing child in his arms, aware dimly of Jo having appeared at the doorway and looking at them with concern in her eyes. He nodded to her slightly to let her know they'd be okay, and she nodded back and quietly closed the door behind her. Mac held Katie close, feeling her body shake with sobs. He didn't say a word, aware that he'd already said all there was to say. He thought of Claire, and closed his eyes briefly, against his own grief, as it swelled within him, along with his grief for Katie and her family. He hated that someone so young had to deal with such a terrible loss, and with the kind of numbing, exhausting, all-consuming pain it brought. He wished he could make it so that it had never happened. Not just Jenna's murder, but Claire's as well. He knew that wasn't possible. He was powerless to save either Jenna or Claire, and that knowledge constricted his throat and tightened his chest with pain and frustration and guilt. But he *could* find the bastard who killed Jenna. The fucker who left two children without the person they loved most in the world. Claire's killers, the terrorists who planned and perpetrated the 9/11 attacks, were beyond any justice he could hope to administer, but Jenna's killer was not. Not if Mac had anything to do with it. As Katie continued to cry in his arms, Mac felt that steely, icy determination he'd felt in the diner. The person who killed Jenna Malone was going to pay for their crime. He would make sure of it.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Mac had settled Katie in his office, where after taking great interest in his Marine photographs, she had fallen asleep, exhausted, on his couch.

A search of the Malones' residence had revealed nothing pertinent to the case, and Jo's interviews with Jenna's friends had produced no new leads. Mac sighed in frustration and rubbed a hand over his eyes.

Looking at Katie, he hoped that she would find a few hours peace in her sleep. He hoped she was still young enough for sleep to be a refuge from the harsh reality of the world, although he guessed that right now, her sleep was the result of the pure exhaustion of grief. There would be sleepless nights to come for her, and Mac hoped her brother would get home as soon as possible and be able to provide some measure of stability and comfort for her. Despite his own grief, young Todd Malone was going to have to be responsible for taking care of his sister now, as well. Poor kid, Mac thought, darkly, he's not even in his thirties yet and now the world had dumped this on him.

He looked up as he heard a soft tap on the door, and saw Adam gesturing to him, looking pleased with himself.

Checking on Katie, Mac rose from his desk and met Adam outside.

'I finally finished running those bullets from the diner,' Adam said, 'I got a hit.'

He held a clenched fist out, and Mac smiled genuinely for the first time in hours, bumping his own fist with Adam's.

'Am I not the best lab tech in the history of lab techs?' Adam said as Mac followed him to the part of the lab where'd he'd been doggedly working since Mac gave him the bullets.

'That depends on what you found out,' Mac said.

Adam showed him the computer screen.

'The gun is a match for several crimes in the space of the last two years,' he said, 'All in Queens. We got a bodega robbery, another diner robbery, a drive-by shooting of a club, and the murder of one Antwon Degerras, a known drug dealer. In all the crimes, the major suspects were a drug gang out of Queens, name of 'Queen's Kingpins'.'

'Excellent work, Adam,' Mac said, 'I'll get Don to talk to his contacts and see what he can dig up about this gang.'

Adam grinned, proudly. Mac patted him on the back and was headed to the elevators, planning to find Don, when his cell phone buzzed.

'Taylor,' he answered.

'Detective Taylor, this is Bobby down on the front desk downstairs. We got a bit of trouble down here. Some young guy in a Marines uniform just stormed in here demanding to see a Katie Malone, and he looks like he's about to cream Detective Messer.'

Todd Malone felt like he was in a nightmare. He'd been met at the airport not by his mother and Katie, but by Mrs Weiss, who had told him, barely able to hold back her tears, that his mother had been murdered, and that Katie was now at the New York Crime Lab with detectives waiting for him. He'd felt shock, horror, disbelief, and fear for Katie. All he wanted was to get to her as soon as possible. Right now, he couldn't think about the fact that his mother was...was dead, couldn't think about himself, about the awful wail of grief and horror that was pushing at his chest and rising in his throat. He snapped into the mode he'd learnt in OCS and, more importantly, in combat and on patrols with his Marines in the deadly, dusty streets of Iraq. Now was not the time to break down, or worry about himself. He had a responsibility, a duty, to protect Katie. But beneath that was a terrible need to see and hold her, to make sure that she too had not been snatched from him in circumstances he couldn't understand. Mrs Weiss had dropped him off at the entrance to the building housing the crime lab, and he'd entered, demanding at the desk to see Katie. The guy at the desk had called over a guy not much older than Todd, who introduced himself as Detective Messer. Todd had taken an instant dislike to him. He was a twitchy guy, constantly adjusting his glasses and bouncing about on the balls of his feet. Todd did not trust twitchy guys. The detective seemed more interested in asking him questions than taking him to his sister.

'Goddamn it, stop fucking me around!' Todd yelled, his frustration boiling over, 'I want to see Katie, now, and you're not gonna stop me,'

'Hey, buddy, you better calm down,' Detective Messer said, bouncing on the balls of his feet, getting in Todd's face.

Todd looked the guy up and down. He was sure he could take him.

'Get out of my fucking way, and let me see my sister,' Todd yelled, taking a step forward, fists clenched.

'Back off, right now, Lieutenant Malone,' came a calm but utterly authoritative voice from behind him.

Todd didn't know if it was the use of his rank or the pure command in the tone of the person behind him, but without even thinking about it, he obeyed, raising his hands and stepping back away from Detective Messer, turning to see who the person was.

The man striding towards him walked like an officer, and his green eyes had the same focused, 'don't fuck with me' look of one, too. Todd looked him over, curiously. This must be the 'nice older detective' Mrs Weiss had mentioned when she picked him up at the airport.

Something about this detective commanded Todd's respect instantly. Perhaps it was that Todd knew, without asking, that he was military. The man's poise, intensity, and utter command of the situation contrasted sharply with the look and attitude of Messer.

The man stopped in front of him.

'I'm Detective Mac Taylor, Lieutenant Malone. I'm handling your mother's case. I'll take you to Katie right now, but you need to calm down. Katie doesn't need to see you losing control, and I won't tolerate you getting into confrontations with my team. You understand?'

Again, there was absolute command in Taylor's tone. Todd's superior officer, Daley, spoke like that. Quiet, but sure. Daley was not a guy you fucked around with or threatened, and Todd sensed this Taylor wasn't either. That pleased him. He wanted someone like that on his mother's case. He felt his frustration and boiling anger dissipate somewhat.

'Yes, sir,' he said.

Taylor said, softer now,

'Don't call me 'sir', this isn't the Marines, Lieutenant. I'll take you to Katie now. Danny, why don't you take a break and get something to eat?'

Messer disappeared, and Taylor led Todd to an elevator.

Once they were inside, Todd said,

'You can call me 'Todd'. I prefer that to 'Lieutenant'. Like you said, this isn't the Marines.'

Taylor nodded. He looked directly into Todd's eyes and said,

'I'm sorry for your loss, Todd,'

The hard, don't-fuck-with-me look had gone from his eyes now, and all Todd saw was genuine sorrow.

He nodded once, bit his lip, took a deep breath. He didn't really want to talk about his mom's death, not till he had to, so he said,

'You were military, right?'

'Marines,' Taylor answered.

'An officer, right?'

Taylor nodded.

'A Major when I left.'

'Where'd you serve?'

'Beirut, Desert Storm...other places,'

Todd wondered what 'other places' meant. It didn't sound good. He had been in some bad places himself.

'Beirut,' he said, softly, thinking about the horror stories he'd heard from older Marines about that day in 1983. 'Shit.'

'Yeah,' Taylor said simply. Todd could almost hear the man's bad memories in that one word, and shuddered in sympathy.

'Is Katie...how is she doing?' he asked.

Taylor sighed.

'She's sleeping right now. She knows her mother's dead. She's angry and scared and devastated. She's going to need her big brother.'

Todd nodded. He appreciated Taylor not sugar-coating Katie's mental state.

'I don't know what the fuck to do,' he said softly, 'I feel like I've stepped from one nightmare straight into another. I...I mean...what the fuck do I _do_ ?'

'You take care of Katie and you take care of yourself,' Taylor said, 'This is going to be incredibly fucking awful for both of you, Todd, but you need to be there for Katie. You need to focus on her while my team and I focus on catching the bastard who did this.'

'I want to fucking kill him,' Todd growled.

'I know,' Taylor said, 'But Katie's more important right now.'

Todd nodded, pulling his rage deeper inside himself, shoving it to the darker recesses of his mind. He had to focus on Katie now.

The elevator dinged, and Todd stepped out onto a floor that was a mix of labs and offices, lots of cops and people in white coats and office wear hurrying around.

'Katie's in my office, this way,' Todd followed Taylor to a glass walled office. As he stepped inside, he briefly noted photographs of Marines and other military memorabilia on the walls, but his attention was instantly consumed by Katie, sleeping on the couch, looking tiny and vulnerable in a way that broke Todd's heart.

'I'll give you some time,' Taylor said, placing a hand on Todd's shoulder briefly, 'We'll talk later,'

Todd nodded, grateful, and moved towards his sister, the one remaining member of his family, as Taylor quietly closed the door behind him.

Having left Todd and Katie to their reunion and to their grief, Mac headed over to the precinct, stopping off at his favourite deli on the way to pick up a club sandwich and a coffee. He got a coffee for Flack too.

'Hey, Mac,' Don said as Mac approached his desk and pulled up a chair. He took the coffee and sipped, smiled.

'Good coffee.'

'To go with a bit of good news,' Mac said and explained what Adam had found out from the bullets.

'Hmmm, I've heard of the Kingpins,' Flack said, 'I worked the Degerras case. No leads. Nothing significant anyway. Rumour had it that Degerras had been plying his trade in Kingpin territory, and didn't respond to warnings to get the fuck out. That's how come they were possible suspects. But Degerras was a dealer,'

'Meaning he had lots of potential enemies who wanted him dead,' Mac said.

Flack nodded.

'I'll reach out to Narcotics, see if they can give me anything. I'll pull all the files relating to the Kingpins as well.'

'I was just going to ask you to do that,' Mac said, smiling slightly.

Flack smiled too.

'Great minds think alike. And besides, I owe you a favour just for this coffee. I've been drinking half-cold station swill the whole day.'

It was 9pm when Mac sat down with his team in the conference room. Todd and Katie had left about an hour before, going to the home of Todd's girlfriend, Kara. Mac had let them go, he doubted Todd could shed much more light on his mother's death than her friends had been able to, especially with the new drug gang link. Both Todd and Katie had looked shattered, near breaking point. Mac had given Todd his card and told him to call the next day. The young Marine had agreed gratefully, clearly needing private time with his sister and the support of his girlfriend. Mac hoped she would be able to help Todd through his grief as Todd would help Katie through hers.

After explaining the latest information they had on the case, and after Adam had received congratulations on finding the connection with the bullets, Mac turned to Don.

'So, did you get anything on the Kingpins?' he asked.

Flack sighed.

'Yeah. They operate out of Queens. They deal cocaine primarily. They go by the initials 'Q.K'. They've been connected with a lot of other crimes as well as the ones connected to our gun. Dealing, smuggling, robbery, but not many murders. They've been connected with only six murders in the last ten years, all of members rival crews or dealers.'

'No murders of civilians not affiliated with rival gangs or the drug trade?' Jo asked.

Flack shook his head.

'No. They seem to be mostly about business, primarily drugs, but they have minor connections in illegal gun trading too. They're well established, and they have a well established collective criminal record,'

He gestured to several large file boxes against the wall. Collective groans arose from around the table. Mac reined in his own frustration.

'Okay, everyone, these files may be our only lead, so let's start going through them. I want you all to spend an hour or so on it tonight, then go home and get some rest. I'll order pizza, okay?'

The mention of pizza and rest seemed to cheer the team somewhat, and Mac left them dividing the files between them, heading to his office to call for the pizza.

'Hey, Mac, you got a minute?' Don asked, following him out.

'Sure,' said Mac sitting behind his desk, 'What is it?'

'Well, the guys in Narcotics unfortunately don't have any C.I.'s in or affiliated with the Kingpins,' he said, 'which is why we're stuck with all those files and no real insight,'

'I hope there's a 'but' coming, Don,' Mac said wearily.

Flack smiled slightly.

'_But_ I think I have a way we can find out why the Kingpins might have wound up connected to the murder of a civilian, and a way we can get more info on them. '

Mac smiled, feeling some of his frustration ebb away.

'Tell me more,' he said.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

Mac winced as he sipped his coffee. It was cold. He rose from his desk, feeling every muscle in his back aching with weariness and frustration. He headed into the break room and made himself a fresh coffee, then walked back to his office. The lab was quiet, deserted, Even the cleaning crew had left. Mac had sent Jo, Danny, Lindsay, Adam and Don home, seeing how exhausted they were from the long day and the piles of case files they'd gone through, which, predictably and frustratingly, had as yet provided no leads. Jo had told him he should leave too, and he'd said he would. But he couldn't face the idea of going back to his apartment. His dark, empty, apartment where Claire was not. Where she never would be again. Where he would lie down in an empty bed and, if he got any sleep at all, would be visited by dreams of Jenna's murder, or of Claire's death, or of that mission, so long ago, that just wouldn't leave him alone lately.

Sighing, he slumped down into his chair, exhaustedly eyeing the still substantial pile of files on his desk. Flack's idea of a potential lead, if it panned out, could take them one step further to cracking the case. Flack planned to talk to Terrence. Terrence had connections in Queens, and Flack had a feeling that he might be able to provide some information on the Queens Kingpins via his shadier connections. But Flack wouldn't be able to get hold of him until the next day, so for now they were stuck with the seemingly endless files relating to various crimes that members of the Kingpins had been connected with over the years. None of which had involved the death of innocent civilians. The gang really did seem to be about the drug business, pure and simple - except for robbing them and dealing them drugs, the gang seemed to have little criminal interaction with civilians outside of the gang.

So why then did it seem as though one of the Kingpins was involved in this case? Neither Jenna or anyone at the diner had any connections to that world.

Mac swore under his breath and rubbed at his eyes.

The phone on his desk rang, and he glanced at his watch.

3am. Who the hell would call him at this hour? He remembered Drew Bedford, and felt a shudder go through him.

He picked up the phone.

'Taylor,'

'Um, hey, this is...this is Todd,'

The young Marine's voice sounded slurred.

'Todd? What's wrong?'

'Um, well, see, Mac, I kinda fucked up. Man, I'm so _stupid_,' Todd said.

'You're not stupid, Todd,' Mac said calmly, 'Just tell me what happened.'

'Well, Katie was crying for hours when we got back to Kara's. Took me ages to get her to sleep. Poor kid, she's so messed up. Anyway, I needed to take a walk, clear my head, and so I left Kara to watch Katie, and went for a walk. Then I ended up in this bar. And I think I'm kinda drunk. Hell, I know I am. Anyway, Katie told me you were really kind to her, and she said you said she could call you if she needed to talk, and I was just...you gave me your card earlier, and said we could talk later...can we like...could you come get me? Because I'm not sure where the fuck I am or what the hell I'm supposed to _do_ and my Mom's _dead_ and my dad's _dead_ and I...I just need someone to talk to. Someone who understands. Katie said you understand. She's smart for a nine-year-old, ya know? So...'

Todd was babbling as well as slurring now, and Mac could hear the barely-concealed emotion in the young man's voice. He sounded much younger than he was, and much older at the same time. He sounded lost. Lost and alone. Mac knew how that felt.

'I'll come now,' he said, 'Order a soft drink, okay? No more alcohol. What's the name of the bar?'

He heard Todd talking to someone else, then he said,

'Bush's. Like the President.'

He slurred an address, and Mac, after reassuring him he was on his way and telling him to stay right where he was, hung up, grabbed his jacket, and headed for his car.

Mac entered Bush's and found Todd was the only patron at the bar. The bar tender shot Mac a look that said 'get this guy out of here'. Todd turned to him.

'You came,' he said, sounding a little surprised.

'You asked me to,' Mac said. 'Now, come on. There's a 24-hour coffee place just around the corner.'

'I need to sober up. God, I really messed up. I'm sorry, I didn't mean...I just...'

Todd's eyes had tears in them. His cheeks were flushed, and his hair messy. He didn't look like a First Lieutenant in the Marines. He looked like a sick, lost, confused kid. Mac gestured for him to stand, and he did, a little unstable on his feet. They left the bar, and ten minutes later were ensconced in a booth at the back of the coffee shop, sipping steaming mugs of coffee.

Mac sat in silence, waiting for Todd to say whatever he needed to.

'Katie really likes you,' he said, 'She told me how straight you were with her about our Mom getting killed. She said how understanding you were. Thanks for being there for her when I couldn't be, for treating her right.'

'It's my job,' Mac said.

'No,' Todd said, 'You could have treated her like a little kid. Told her everything would be okay. But you didn't. You reached out to her when you didn't really have to.'

'She's a great kid,' Mac said softly, 'and I understand a bit about what she, what both of you, are going through right now.'

Todd nodded.

'Yeah. She told me about...about your wife. I'm sorry. That you lost your wife like that. I can't imagine what I'd do if I lost Kara. She's...apart from my mom, she's the one who keeps me strong. I don't know what I'd do if I lost her, too.'

Mac said nothing.

'How do you do it, Mac?' Todd asked, softly, 'How the hell do you go on without your wife? How am I supposed to go on without my mom? What the hell am I supposed to _do_ ? I...I don't know whether I want to scream or cry. God, it hurts so damn _much_, you know, and I'm...' he leaned forward, closer to Mac, and whispered, in a broken voice, _'_I'm so _scared_. I'd rather be facing down a group of armed insurgents in Iraq than here, right now. At least with the insurgents, I'd know what I'm supposed to do.'

Mac met the young Marine's eyes.

'I'll tell you the truth, like I did with Katie,' he said. 'I don't know how I do it. How I'm still here when my wife isn't. I miss her every day. I hate that she's dead and I'm here, alone, without her. I don't know how I've made it this far. I just...you just keep moving forward, Todd. That's all there is. It's hard, hell, it's damn near impossible at times, and it hurts like hell. But that's what I do. I keep moving forward. And some days it's harder than others. But it's what I have to do. It's what you have to do. Not just for yourself, but for Katie. She needs you.'

Todd nodded slowly.

'I just...I don't know if I can,'

'You can, Todd. You have Katie. And you have Kara. Hold onto both of them. Especially Kara. You love her, right?'

Todd smiled a little,

'Like crazy,' he said gently.

Mac closed his eyes briefly. He remembered that kind of love.

'Then let her be there for you. When you feel like you can't do it anymore, like you're going to scream, or cry, or kill the next person who tells you they're sorry, talk to her. Reach out. Because that's what'll get you through, Todd. Do you understand?'

Todd nodded again.

'Yeah,' he said softly. Then, 'Thanks. For being straight with me.'

Mac nodded.

'So, are you any closer to finding the bastard who killed my mother?' Todd asked, changing the subject. The anger and desperation that had been pouring off him during the phone call and in the bar was still there, but seemed a little less potent than before.

Mac explained where the team was on the case, without going into specifics.

'I don't get it,' Todd said, 'She had nothing to do with gangs or drugs or anything. I don't get why they'd kill her...'

'Neither do we, right now,' Mac said, 'But we will find out, Todd. We'll find who did this.'

Todd nodded, wordlessly.

They sat in silence then, until they finished their coffees, and then Mac offered Todd a lift home, which he gratefully accepted. As they drove towards Kara's neighbourhood, Todd said,

'Can I ask you something else?'

'Go ahead.'

'You were Recon, weren't you?'

Mac stiffened slightly.

'How'd you work that out?'

'I saw your Marine badges and medals in your office. You have the Combat Diver pin. And the Paratrooper pin. And the rifle pins. That means Recon.'

'I was in Recon for a few years, yes.' Mac said, quietly.

Todd nodded, then was silent for a block or two, before he said,

'You also have two Bronze Stars and a Silver Star.'

'I do,' Mac said, carefully.

'You have to do something pretty fricking special to get those,' Todd said, softly, his voice curious, but as careful as Mac's had been. The unspoken question floated between them.

_So, what'd you do to get those medals?_

'I survived,' Mac said, his tone heavy with guilt and loss, 'I did my job in a situation that got fucked up beyond all recognition, and I survived. That's what I did to get them.'

He'd surprised himself with the admission. He'd rarely talked to anyone outside of the Marines about those medals, except for Claire. Perhaps Todd's being a Marine, and one recently returned from his own tour of duty and whatever he'd faced during it, made talking about it, even a little, easier.

Todd watched Mac as he drove, not speaking after his quiet admission. Mac had earned his respect almost as soon as they'd met, and now Todd's respect for the man had only deepened. But now, Todd trusted Mac too. He understood Katie's implicit trust in him. This was the man he wanted on his mother's case. Perhaps it was that he was a Marine too. Perhaps it was how the detective had gone above and beyond the call of duty for both Katie and for Todd himself. Perhaps it was how honest and compassionate and genuine Mac had been with him and his sister. But more than anything, Todd thought, it was Mac's quiet assertion just now that what he had done to get those medals was 'do his job'. If getting two Bronze and a Silver Star was 'doing his job' as a Marine, then Todd believed that Mac would now 'do his job' as a detective, that he would not stop, would not hesitate, in doing whatever it took to catch the bastard who killed his mom.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Mac sat at the head of the conference table and looked around at his team.

It was mid-afternoon. Flack had spent the morning tracking down and talking to Terrence. Mac had dispatched Jo and Lindsay to do a double check of the businesses surrounding Salvatore's Diner. The owners had already been briefly questioned by uniforms but Mac hoped that perhaps now someone might remember something new. It was a long shot, but it was one of the few possibilities they had, along with the only slightly smaller mountain of files relating to the Kingpins' exploits that he and Danny had spent the morning going through. Mac had only gotten a couple of hours sleep after dropping Todd off at Kara's place. His sleep had been restless, and he'd woken at 6am from another nightmare. This time, it had not been the mission where Lucas was killed, but 9/11. _The moment he heard the horrified gasps of the detectives, cops, and civilian employees behind him, had turned to see the South Tower of the World Trade Center explode in a huge fireball, the awful silence as he'd screamed Claire's name into his phone...Images of what might have happened to her in that instant. The instant when he had not been there to protect her._

'Mac?' Jo asked softly, bringing Mac out of his dark reverie. Both she and Don were looking at him with concern.

'Sorry,' he said, 'I'm fine.'

Jo frowned and Don raised a skeptical eyebrow. Mac sighed inwardly. Both of them were well aware that this case was hitting him harder than usual.

'What have we got?' he said.

'I spoke to Terrence. He said that from what he knows of the Kingpins, the murder of an innocent civilian is a big no-no. They're all about the business, and killing unconnected civilians brings attention from us that they don't need. He also mentioned a guy named Marvin Lewis.'

Flack stood and went to the large screen on the wall. He nodded to Adam, who tapped some keys on the laptop connected to it. On the screen, a record and mug shot appeared.

Marvin Lewis was a skinny white guy with purple dreadlocks and shifty eyes.

'Our friend Marvin is a member of the Kingpins. He's been busted twice for dealing cocaine, and once for assault on a rival dealer. He just got out of jail last month after serving time on the assault charge. Terrence told me that he's still dealing. He has himself a nice new spot. He's a low-level player, but Terrence said he might well flip on our killer, if he knows anything about him, because our killer is gonna be persona-non-grata with the Kingpins right now. They won't protect someone who screwed up like this. Terrence even said that he wouldn't be surprised if they kill the guy themselves.'

'As a warning to others?' Jo asked.

Flack nodded.

'Yeah, and to protect themselves. No killer, no more connection between Jenna's murder and them.'

'So we need to find our killer first,' Mac said, 'The Kingpins have a lot of members. How likely is it that Lewis would know anything substantial about Jenna's murder?'

Jo smiled.

'That's where we finally got lucky in this case,' she said. As Flack sat down, Jo nodded to Adam. A new image appeared on the screen. Grainy colour footage showing a stretch of sidewalk. Jo pointed to it.

'This is security camera footage from Mike's Hardware, three doors down from Salvatore's.' she said, 'It's the only business that has a security camera showing the front of the diner. You can see the front of the diner here. The awning blocks the sidewalk in front from the angle of the camera, but what we do have, at five minutes to two, is this.'

The image changed to show footage of a car pulling up outside the diner. The rear door opened, and a shadowy figure could be seen for a second before disappearing under the awning. Minutes later, the figure flashed through the frame again, and the car took off at considerable speed.

'I worked on the footage,' Adam said, 'and I couldn't get any kind of a decent image of our killer. However, I got a pretty good image of the car's license plate,'

The image on screen changed to show an enlarged image of the back of the car, where the license plate was easy to read despite the grainy quality of the image.

'Registration comes back to one Mr Marvin Lewis,' Jo finished.

'Boom!' Danny said.

Mac smiled.

'So, Lewis was there. With our killer. Don, I think we should go and have a little chat with Marvin. You up for it?'

Flack grinned.

'Absolutely' he said.

As they drove to the small park in Maspeth where Terrence had told Flack Marvin spent his afternoons dealing cocaine, a blatant violation of the man's parole, Flack said,

'This case is really getting to you, huh?'

Mac nodded. He was frankly too tired to keep up the pretense of being 'fine' any longer.

'Any particular reason?'

Mac paused, searching for the right words.

'I've been having this dreams lately,' he said quietly.

Flack waited in silence.

'About this time of year, back when I was a Captain in the Marines, my unit and I went on a mission,' he said, 'I won't go into details, but we got ambushed, and I lost two of my men. Our medic, and a Sgt. named Lucas. His wife had just given birth to their son. I couldn't save him.'

'That's tough,' Flack said softly, thinking of Jessica Angell dying in his arms. His powerlessness to save her. 'I guess meeting Todd Malone really brought those memories out.'

Mac nodded. He was grateful that Don didn't press for details about the mission on which Lucas had died, and as he glanced at his friend, he saw only understanding in his eyes, not a trace of pity. 'I can't help thinking about Claire, too' he said softly, feeling his chest tighten. 'This case, it's just bringing up a lot of stuff for me. I'm so tired, Don,'

Don Flack looked at his exhausted friend. He felt a rush of compassion and understanding. Jenna's murder had brought back memories of Jessica's murder, which tormented Flack. But he had Jenny. Flack and Jenny had been dating for a few months now. Jenny's brother was a cop who had been killed in the line of duty some years before, and she and Flack had always been friends. Their relationship had changed a few months ago, and though it was hard at times, and Don knew he would never forget Jess, for the first time since her death, he was beginning to find a sense of contentment and even a possibility of happiness. Jenny was pretty and smart, and patient. She understood Don's loss, and the during last few days he'd found sanctuary of a sort from the darkness of the Malone case, and the memories it stirred, in her arms. But Mac had no one to go home to. Don knew how very, achingly, lonely that could be.

'You ever want to talk,' he said quietly, 'You call. Any time of the day or night. You call me, Mac, okay?'

'You have your own life, Don,' Mac said, 'I wouldn't want to intrude, or...'

'Burden me?' Flack asked, 'Don't talk bullshit, Mac. You're one of my closest friends. You're the one who dragged me out of the mess I got myself into after Jess died. I understand what you're going through, Mac, and I sure as hell don't have all the answers, but I can listen, if you need me to. So you call me, okay?'

As they stopped for a light, Mac turned to his friend.

'Thanks, Don,' he said.

Don just nodded.

They drove for a while in silence, and then Don said,

'Also, can I just take this opportunity to say that you need a woman?'

Mac coughed, embarrassed. This was a favourite subject of Don's.

'Don, I...'

'You,' Flack repeated, 'Need. A. Woman. Someone you can go home to, who can be there for you when you have to deal with all the shit we have to deal with day in, day out. Someone to take care of you. You should seriously think about it, Mac,' he said, his tone serious, 'You're a good guy and a hell of a detective, you deserve the chance to be happy. To have someone. It can happen, Mac. Look at me and Jenny. You could have something like that. That's all I'm saying.'

Mac nodded. He thought about Flack and Jenny. Danny and Lindsay. Jo and her kids. Todd and Kara. Himself and Claire. He still missed her, and he missed simply having someone to go home to, someone who understood him, someone he could trust enough to let down his carefully erected barriers around, someone he _loved_. Don's words struck home forcefully, and for the first time, Mac found himself taking his friend's point seriously.

Once he solved this case, he thought, maybe he'd think a lot more about what Don had said.

'Here we are,' Don said, breaking Mac's train of thought.

Mac pulled up by the entrance to a small park and he and Don exited the car. He hoped that they were finally on a firm trail to their killer.

An hour later, Mac sat with a coffee in front of him, opposite a sulky looking Marvin Lewis.

'I can't go to jail again, man,' Marvin whined.

'Well, you're going back,' Flack said, 'You broke your parole, Marvin.'

'However,' Mac said, 'We might be willing to drop the drug charges, if you do something for us.'

He placed two photographs in front of Marvin.

'This,' he said, pointing to one, 'is Jenna Malone. She was murdered a few nights ago. She has two kids.'

Marvin's face paled, and he visibly flinched.

'And this, Marvin, is your car. Outside the diner, at the time of the murder. Now, I don't think you killed her.'

'You're pretty stupid, Marv,' Flack said, leaning across the table, 'Dealing drugs while on parole? Stupid. But we don't think you're dumb enough to do something like this,' he tapped the picture of Jenna.

'Sure as shit I ain't,' Marvin barked, 'I did that, I'd be a dead man. We don't kill civilians.'

Mac and Flack exchanged a glance.

'We, meaning the Kingpins?' Mac asked.

Marvin hesitated, the nodded.

'Yeah.'

'Tell us what happened, Marvin, and we'll let you go. Don't tell us, and we'll throw you back in prison.'

Marvin paused again, then began to speak.

'You want to be in the Kingpins, you got to do an initiation, prove your loyalty,' he said. 'You gotta rob somewhere, and you gotta score at least $300 bucks. Then you buy everyone else booze and smokes and stuff. So, this kid, name of Eddie Walsh, wants to join. He'd been a runner for me for a while. So, me and a couple of buddies take him to do his initiation. You have to pick the place you hit. Eddie picks Salvatore's. So there we are, sittin' outside, when all of a sudden, I hear fucking gunshots and Eddie comes out with blood on him and looking scared shitless. He jumps in and I take off. Turns out the stupid son of a bitch shot the woman in the diner. A civilian! Because he only got $150 dollars! So what does he do? Does he leave and get us to take him to another place he can hit? No, the stupid bastard kills a goddamn civilian. He's nothin' to do with us now.' The last sentence was spoken with anger and disgust.

'You don't know where he is?' Mac asked.

'No,' Marvin said, 'I did, he'd be dead. He shows up anywhere in Queens, he's a dead man. Order from the top. I were him, I'd be hiding out. Or gone.'

Mac and Flack exchanged a look again. They had a suspect, but the clock was ticking. They had to find Eddie Walsh, and fast.

After making sure Marvin didn't know anything else, Mac and Flack left the room.

'See if you can pull anything on Walsh,' said Mac, 'if he was a runner, he might have a file. He's 23. Old enough to have done adult time. Get an APB out on him. I want this little bastard, Don.'

'Me, too,' Don said, 'I'll get right on it.'

Mac just hoped they'd find Walsh in time, before he skipped town, if he hadn't already, and before the Kingpins eliminated him for good.


	6. Chapter 6

_Note: Jane Parsons and Dr Giles are in this chapter. As in s1/s2, they both still work in DNA over at the M.E.'s office._

Chapter 6.

5am:

Mac sat in the booth at the back of the coffee shop a block or so from the lab, his hands wrapped round a steaming mug of coffee.

The diner was quiet. It had been three days now since they'd put out the city-wide APB for Eddie Walsh. It had now been expanded to the tri-state area, and they still had no firm leads. They'd gotten the usual crank calls and 'sightings' that turned out to be nothing. Walsh's mother had died the previous year of a drug overdose, and his father was unknown. According to Marvin Lewis, Eddie had been staying with him until the night of the initiation. They'd gotten a warrant to search his place, but found no sign of Eddie, which didn't surprise Mac given the trouble he was in with the gang and the police. They'd managed to interview a few of Eddie's friends, mostly kids his own age with similar records, working as drug runners, but either they genuinely didn't know where Eddie was, or if they did, they weren't saying. Mac suspected that they genuinely didn't know. From what Marvin had said, the Kingpins wanted Eddie's head on a platter, and though his friends might lie to the police for him, Mac doubted they'd lie to the members of the gang for which they ran drugs and which they likely hoped to join one day.

The team were frustrated and pissed off. Mac tried to keep them focused and optimistic, but it was hard. They'd all been so pumped up when it seemed they finally had their killer, but now he had vanished into the labyrinth of the city. Or he'd already left. Or he was dead. From what Mac had read in his file, and learnt from Eddie's parole officer, the kid had never had much of a chance in life. He'd been raised in one of the poorest neighbourhoods in Queens, in a block of apartments well known for violence and drugs problems. His mother had spent most of her life doing drugs and getting drunk, while Eddie had run wild on the streets from the age of ten. However rough his upbringing, though, the fact remained that he was a murderer. He'd killed an innocent woman over $150 dollars. Mac thought of Todd and Katie, now without the woman had raised them, who had loved and fought for them. They would carry that loss for the rest of their lives, and all because of $150. Money that even Marvin Lewis had admitted could easily have been obtained another way. There had been no need for Walsh to kill Jenna. Had he taken the money and run, it was very unlikely the police would ever have caught him. The crime was so utterly pointless. The world really was brutally unfair, and Mac was tired of it.

Mostly, though, he was tired of having to deal with it alone.

He closed his eyes.

Claire had been his sanctuary from the horrors and darkness of his job, from the pointless brutality of the world he saw every day. She had saved him after he left the Marines, stopped him from sinking into that abyss of guilt and memories that he had seen other veterans fall into. During his years with the NYPD, however disturbing or frustrating the cases he'd worked had been, he'd known that he had Claire to go home to. Often, when she knew something was bothering him, she would just sit with him quietly. He would rest against her, closing his eyes, and she would run her fingers lightly through his hair, waiting until he was ready to share even a little bit of whatever was tormenting him. At times like this, when he was dealing with yet another case of a life taken for the most utterly pointless reasons, when he had to get not only his team through the case but felt responsible for the victims' relatives or for survivors of the crime as well, he missed Claire so much he could hardly breathe. He wished he could go home and find her there. Danny and Lindsay had each other, Jo had her kids, Flack had Jenny, even poor Todd had Kara and Katie...Mac felt an intense loneliness fill him. With the loneliness came guilt. Guilt for being alive when Claire was not. No one could have prevented 9/11, but still Mac felt guilty for being unable to save Claire. Just as he felt guilty over the deaths of Lucas and Simmons. Lucas's wife had never blamed him, had told him outright that her husband's death wasn't his fault and even thanked him for trying to save his life, but Mac had blamed himself. Not for the mission going so horribly wrong, but for being unable to get to Lucas in time, to save him as he lay dying on the floor of the chopper. _Mac smelt the coppery odour of blood in his nostrils, blood and the fear of the Marines around him..._

'Mac?'

A hand came to rest on his shoulder. Mac's eyes snapped open, and he came back to the present, the quiet diner. He looked up.

Jane Parsons stood next to him, her hand still resting on his shoulder, concern in her eyes.

'Are you all right?' she asked.

It was on the tip of Mac's tongue to lie, to say he was fine. But something about the quiet of the diner, the late hour, the gentle weight of her hand that was still resting on his shoulder, and the genuine concern in her eyes and voice stopped him. Or perhaps he was just tired of having to be 'fine' all the damn time.

He shook his head in a wordless gesture of defeat and frustration.

'I can sit with you, if you want,' Jane said, 'Or I can leave you in peace.'

He considered. He could ask her to leave him be. Deal with his demons. Push them to the darkest recesses of his mind, try to forget. Or...

'I...guess I wouldn't mind some company,' he said.

Jane nodded, and sat opposite him. When her hand left his shoulder, he found himself missing the contact.

He looked at her across the table.

'You're here late, Jane.'

'Or early,' she shrugged. 'I woke up at 2am and couldn't get back to sleep, so I came in to do some filing for Leonard. I tell you, that man is a bloody brilliant scientist, but his filing 'system' basically involves shoving his files on his desk until the pile falls over, then starting a new one. It took me two hours to sort out his latest mess, and then I decided I needed a caffeine hit.'

Mac smiled, his mood lightening a little.

'If you think Giles is bad, you ought to see Jo's desk. I don't know how she ever finds anything.'

Jane smiled at him.

She was pretty, Mac thought. Even at this late hour, in the not-so-flattering light of the diner, she was an attractive woman. He found himself wondering why she had woken at 2am alone. Did she have a boyfriend? _That's none of your business,_ he thought. _Focus, dammit._ Still, he wondered. Jane had never made a secret of her...interest in him. It confused Mac, flustered him slightly. He wasn't sure what to do with the idea that Jane, for some reason, _liked_ him. Even Flack had noticed the fact and occasionally would mention that according to his 'sources', Jane wasn't dating anyone. He shook his head slightly, dispelling the thought. Although he was aware of Jane's interest, and that always threw him somewhat, he liked being around her. She was very competent at what she did, which earned his respect, but she was also just easy to be around, calm and quiet and steady, with a playful side that came out when she gently flirted with him or made fun of Giles's professorial scatter-brained nature.

'You look tired, Mac. In fact, you look exhausted. Have you slept recently?'

'I got a couple of hours sleep,' he said, 'This case we're working at the moment, it's a really tough one,'

Jane sipped her coffee and simply looked at him, and he suddenly found himself telling her about the case. About Jenna, and Todd, and Katie. About how his team was struggling with the case. The words poured from him as he finally let down the wall that had been penning it all in. He was just too damn tired to keep it up any longer.

When he'd finished, he looked down at his coffee, unsure what to do now. But he felt better, as though just talking to Jane had relieved some of weight on his shoulders.

'You know,' she said 'I'm not surprised you're tired. I honestly don't know how you do it, Mac. You don't just take responsibility for the victims of crimes and their families. You have to look after your team as well. It's one of things I like most about you. I just wonder, who's there for _you_ when you're working a tough case.? Who do you get to share all that responsibility with?'

_No one. Not any more. Not since..._

'My wife,' Mac said, 'Claire. I used to...she was...she was always the one who I could go home to.'

He looked down at his coffee again. He'd never shared that with anyone before. Talking about Claire hurt, and he hated the pity he usually saw in people's eyes whenever her name came up.

He felt Jane's hand rest on his. The contact surprised him, sending a jolt of...something through him, while at the same time reassuring him. He looked up into her eyes, searching for that wary pity he hated so much, but saw only genuine warmth and compassion.

'For whatever it's worth, Mac, I truly am sorry about your wife.'

Mac nodded again. Her words were spoken without a trace of the usual guilty unease and pity he was accustomed to whenever Claire's death came up.

'You're a good man, Mac,' Jane said, 'You don't deserve to have to deal with all the stuff you have to deal with alone. If you ever want to talk about any of it, even just to vent, you can always talk to me.'

She paused, seeming unsure of herself for a moment, then added,

'I mean, if you want to, of course. You don't have to. I just mean, if you wanted to talk to someone outside of your team, then... I'd be there to listen.'

Mac stared at her, taken aback both by her insight into him and by her offer. Don had made him the same offer on their way to pick up Marvin Lewis. From Jane, the offer seemed to take on a different context. He thought about what Don had said, about him needing a woman, someone to take care of him, and about his not-so-subtle mentions of Jane's status as a single woman. Were Flack here now, Mac thought wryly, he'd have a smug smile on his face and be dialing Jo on his cell phone to inform her of what was going on.

'I wouldn't want to burden you...' he said.

A smile tugged at Jane's lips.

'Don't be stupid, Mac Taylor. You would not be burdening me. We're friends, aren't we?'

'Yes,' he said, 'We are. Thank you, Jane. For...listening.'

'You're welcome,' she said.

They sat in silence for a while. Mac was aware that her hand was still on his. But he was aware too that he didn't want to move his hand away, didn't want to lose the contact between them. He didn't want to stop sitting here with her like this, in a warm, safe silence that was tinged with a charge of electricity, with something *more* than just two friends sitting together in a near-deserted diner in the early hours of a dark November morning.

A loud crash and a curse came from behind the diner counter, and the moment was broken as both Mac and Jane looked over to see a waitress and Benny the counterman clearing up the remnants of a shattered coffee-pot that the waitress had dropped.

Jane turned to Mac. Slowly she removed her hand from his. Her eyes, however, never left his.

'So,' she said, lightly, 'I hear your lab tech, Adam, has been chasing after some new girl at the M.E's office.'

They talked like that for the next couple of hours, about things going on in the lab and the M.E's office and in the city. Light, inconsequential talk that for just a short while, took Mac's mind off his dark thoughts of earlier.

xxx

Mid afternoon:

Todd was at his mother's house, collecting some clothes and other stuff for himself and Katie. He planned to take the stuff back, then go to the crime lab to check on the case and see Mac, maybe take Katie with him. Despite the circumstances under which they'd met, and the frustrating lack of leads on the bastard who'd killed his mom, Todd trusted Mac, and liked him. Especially since that night that the detective had come to get him from the bar and talked to him about his mother's death. Mac had a genuinely compassionate, straightforward way of talking to him that reminded Todd of his own dad, who were he alive, would be around Mac's age now, Todd guessed. Talking to him helped.

The phone rang, and Todd, puzzled, picked up. Who would be calling the house now?

'Todd Malone,'

'You the son of Jenna Malone?' a voice asked.

'Yes.'

'I know where the dude is who killed her is hidin'.'

'You *what*? Who the hell are you?'

'That don't matter. All you need to know is that the kid's in Ravenswood. Old warehouse.' The voice reeled off an address, and before Todd could speak, the line went dead.

Todd felt a deep red rage swell inside him and fill his mind. His fists clenched and he ran to his car, not even locking the door behind him. He didn't think about calling Mac or the police. He didn't think about anything except killing the bastard who killed his mother.

xxx

Mac sighed. Jo and Lindsay had just returned from questioning a couple more of Eddie Walsh's friends, who had been unable to tell them where he might be. Mac and Danny and Flack had been dealing with the leads that had come in over the tip line, none of which had been any use.

He decided to call Todd to see how the young man was doing. He hadn't heard from him yet today, which was unusual, as ever since they'd met, Todd had visited the lab or called Mac to check on the progress of the case, or just to talk. Since that night when Mac had picked Todd up and taken him to the coffee joint and talked with him, Todd had seemed to latch on to Mac in much the same way Katie had, and more than once Mac found himself calming Todd down as he railed against the world and the kid who had killed his mother, and as he tried to work out what he was supposed to do now.

Mac liked Todd, and wished they could have met under different circumstances. He wished he could do something to help the young man more. Hell, he wished he could make it so that Jenna had never died, but knew that was impossible. He wanted to find Eddie Walsh more than ever now. He wanted to close the case so that Todd and Katie could have some sense of justice, so that they could see the person who ruined their lives be punished for what he'd done. After three days of nothing though, Mac's frustration was growing, and though he tried to keep the others optimistic, he was fast losing hope that they'd be able to close this case. That made him feel angry and guilty, and, worst of all, powerless.

He sighed.

He dialed Todd's cell number on his office phone.

'The phone you are currently trying to contact has been switched off. Please try again later' an automated voice informed him.

Mac frowned. It was unlike Todd to have his phone off.

He put the phone down again, and tried calling first Kara's cell phone, and then her home. No answer on either. He tried calling Jenna's house, thinking Todd might be there now that it was no longer a part of the investigation. No answer.

What the hell?

It was at that moment that Mac heard a commotion down the hall. He rose from his chair and stepped out of his office. Lindsay was standing by the elevator, talking to a young woman with strawberry blonde hair. Mac frowned slightly in recognition. His tired brain struggled to remember when he had seen the young woman before. When Lindsay shifted position slightly, and Mac saw the dark haired child at the young woman's side, he knew who she was, and he felt a bone-deep chill of fear rush through him. The child was Katie, and the young woman, he knew now, was Kara, Todd's girlfriend. He'd met her for about five minutes the night he'd taken Todd back to her house, but their meeting had been brief, Kara had thanked him and helped Todd up to their room, and Mac had left.

'MAC!' Katie yelled, seeing him, and she and Kara pushed past Lindsay and rushed up to him.

'What is it, Kara?' Mac asked the young woman.

'I...I...we need your help,' Kara said. Her voice was quiet, but shaking, and there were tears in her eyes.

'What happened?'

'Todd...Todd went over to his house this morning. Now you guys finished up there, he wanted to get some stuff. He...I don't know what happened, but he called me. I was in Manhattan with Katie. He called me on his cell to say he got a call at the house and someone told him they knew where the Walsh kid was hiding. He was yelling about how he was going to kill the kid.'

Mac felt his fear deepen.

'Did he say where he was going?'

'No. I came straight here as soon as he hung up. I've never heard him that out-of-control before. Ever. You have to find him!'

She sounded scared.

'It's okay, Kara, you did the right thing. We can triangulate Todd's phone and find out where he is. How long ago did he call you?'

'About half an hour,' she said, 'But...but it gets worse. Todd keeps a gun. I asked him if he had it, and he said yes. Just that. Just 'yes'. I think he's going to kill Eddie Walsh.'


	7. Chapter 7

**Note: Okay, folks, this is the final chapter. Hope you enjoy. The spelling mistakes in Katie's letter are deliberate. She *is* only nine after all.**

Chapter 7

'All right everybody, listen up,' Mac said, standing in front of the small group of officers selected for the operation. Adam had traced Todd's phone to an abandoned warehouse in Queens. Mac and the others stood in the parking lot out front of the dilapidated, building. They had reached the building about ten minutes after Todd. No gunfire had been heard, so it seemed Todd had Walsh somewhere inside.

'We have one armed individual, a Marine. If he shoots, he's not going to miss. On the other hand, this is a kid who just lost his mother and is confronting the person responsible for that. So no one shoots unless it is absolutely, and I mean _absolutely_ necessary, that is if the life of a civilian or another officer is in imminent danger. Is that clear?'

Around him, the silent men and women nodded. Mac had their complete attention and none took their eyes off him.

'Good. Johnson, where are Malone and Walsh?'

Sam Johnson, part of HRT, pointed to his laptop screen.

'Two heat signatures on the first floor, room to the rear of the building facing east. I've got a sniper on a rooftop opposite. He just called in to say he has a clear visual. Malone is armed with a handgun which he is pointing at Walsh. They're about two feet apart. If Malone shoots, he sure isn't gonna miss, especially not with his training. Walsh appears to be unarmed. But he might have a knife or a weapon hidden.'

'He might,' Mac agreed, 'But if Todd is thinking straight, he'd have forced Walsh to give up any weapons. Problem is, I'm not sure he *is* thinking straight.' Mac paused. 'Tell your sniper what I just told everyone else. He's not to shoot unless it's absolutely necessary,'

'Got it,' Johnson said, and relayed the order over the radio.

Mac felt fear settle in the pit of his stomach, the same fear he'd felt countless times before a mission in the Marines or in situations like this one as a cop. He didn't feel fear for himself, but for those under his command. He didn't think Todd would shoot at police, but he had no idea how far the young man's grief and anger had pushed him. Mac also knew that if Todd took even one shot, even if he missed, the sniper would shoot him. Mac didn't want to responsible for any deaths today, not the deaths of his fellow officers, or Todd, or even of Walsh. Walsh was a scumbag, but Mac didn't want to see Todd go to prison for killing him. The heavy weight of responsibility pressed down on Mac's shoulders as he looked around the group of officers who were preparing to either fan out around the building or enter along with Mac and Flack. He rubbed his hand over his eyes and rested his hand momentarily on the butt of his weapon. Despite his heavy bulletproof vest, he felt the harsh November cold bite at him and chill him through.

'Hey, buddy, you okay?' Don said, as he came towards him adjusting his own vest.

Mac sighed out a breath, trying to ease his tension.

'I just don't want this to go wrong, Don,' he said, 'I've seen too many supposedly simple situations go wrong, and people always get hurt.'

Don nodded. He understood that Mac was referring not only to things he'd experienced as a cop, but as a Marine too. He also understood, and shared Mac's fear, he too had seen such situations go horribly wrong, resulting in innocent people or good officers ending up dead. But he also knew that it was with Mac, as the one in charge of this operation, that the ultimate responsibility lay. Added to that, Don knew, was the fact that Mac cared a lot for Todd Malone and felt responsible for him and his sister. If Todd killed Walsh, or got himself killed, Mac would blame himself, Don knew. He looked at his friend's face, drawn with anxiety and tiredness, and felt a surge of respect for him. He knew in that instant that however dangerous this situation might turn out to be, he would follow Mac into that building. Glancing behind him at the two officers who had been selected to enter the building with them, he saw them watching Mac with a quiet respect. If they were nervous, they didn't show it, likely taking their cue from Mac. You'd have to know him well, as well as Don did, to know how worried his was about this standoff.

'Malone trusts you, Mac,' Don said, 'If anyone can get him to hand over his weapon, it's you.'

Mac nodded.

'I hope you're right, Don,' he said.

His radio crackled and Johnson informed him that his team was in place around the building with all exits covered.

Mac acknowledged him, then signaled over the two remaining officers, Hansen and Blackwell. Spreading out a blueprint of the building, he laid out his plan.

'Okay, we enter at this main door here. Blackwell, you stay on the ground floor. Hansen, you come up the stairs with Detective Flack and me, and cover the floor outside in case one of them gets past Don and I and makes a run for it. Don, you and I will enter the room where Todd and Walsh are. I'm going to try and get Todd to hand his weapon over. I need you to cover me.'

'Got it,' Don said, and Hansen and Blackwell nodded.

'All right,' said Mac. 'Let's go,'

Drawing his weapon and holding it low, he led the others across the parking lot out front of the warehouse, Don at his side.

They reached the main entrance. Don and Mac took up positions on either side, while Blackwell shouldered open the door, covered by the other three.

The ground floor was clear, and Blackwell took his position. Hansen, Mac, and Flack ran as quickly and silently as possible up to the first floor, and to the rear of the building. Hansen took his position, and then Mac and Flack stood on either side of the doorway to the room where Todd was with Walsh.

Mac took a breath.

'Todd,' he called through the door, 'It's Mac. Can my partner and I come in?'

'Mac?' Todd called, sounding puzzled for a second, then 'You've got the place surrounded, right?'

'That's right.'

'Got a sniper on me?'

'Yes. But if you play this right, Todd, he won't shoot.'

Silence for a few long moments. Mac tensed, hoping like hell he wouldn't hear a shot.

Then,

'You can come in. Just you. I guess you have someone with you. You can leave the door open, but they stay outside. I only want you in here. I'm not going to shoot you, Mac, I swear. I'm no threat to you. I just want to make this bastard pay.'

Mac and Flack and Hansen exchanged glances. Hansen and Flack looked concerned, but Mac felt no fear for himself. He knew Todd wouldn't shoot him. What scared Mac was the knowledge that Todd could shoot Walsh, which would result in him being shot by the sniper, and ultimately going to prison, which would leave Katie without any family, and leave a good man in prison, his life destroyed.

Mac nodded at Hansen and Flack.

'I'm coming in now, Todd,' he said, and slowly pushed the door open.

He found himself in a large room. To his left stood Todd, a Smith and Wesson in his hand, aimed at Eddie Walsh. In the photos Mac had seen of Walsh, the young wannabe-gang-banger had worn a tough look accentuated by a cocky sneer. Mac saw none of that now. Eddie Walsh was on his knees, crying, snot and tears running down his face.

'Oh God, don't kill me, please man, don't kill me,' he begged, his voice high-pitched and desperate. Not a trace remained of the tough, cocky, kid that came across in his file and that his friends had described. Eddie Walsh had been a drug runner, had been involved in fights, had robbed and killed Jenna Malone, but now he was nothing but a scared kid. As Mac, keeping his gun low, moved to Todd's side, he saw Walsh had wet his pants. Mac felt no pity for the kid, only disgust for what he had done.

'Todd, listen to me, you need to put the gun down,'

Todd shook his head. His eyes were filled with tears and he looked exhausted, like he was about to collapse. But the gun, pointing straight at Eddie's sobbing face, was rock steady. Mac knew that if he couldn't persuade Todd to put the gun down, he would shoot, and he would not miss. But Todd hadn't shot Eddie yet. Something in him was holding back, and Mac knew it was that part of Todd he had to reach.

'He fucking deserves to die,' Todd said.

'I know,' Mac said softly, 'I know that's how you feel, but you can't do this, Todd.'

'Why not?'

'You're a Marine, Todd. Marines don't shoot unarmed civilians.'

'Civilian?' Todd sneered, his voice shaking 'He's a goddamned murderer, drug runner and crook. He's no 'civilian' '. His grip tightened on the gun.

'Katie,' Mac said, and Todd looked at him for the first time.

'Katie,' Mac repeated, 'Before we came out here, Todd, Katie asked me to help you. She asked me to save you and not let you do anything bad. That little girl _loves_ you, Todd, and she _needs_ you. If you kill this scumbag, you will go to prison, and what will Katie do then? Do you want her to have to visit you every week in prison? To have to talk to you through a glass screen? You're the only family Katie has left, Todd, and she needs you. She's your responsibility now.'

'Katie,' Todd said softly, and a tear trickled down his cheek. The gun wavered just a little, still aimed at Eddie, but not quite as firmly as before.

'I'm going to get something out of my pocket, okay?' Mac said. Todd nodded, and with his free hand, Mac took a plastic evidence bag out of his pocket. He held it up so Todd could see the photo inside. It was Jenna's photo of her, Todd and Katie.

'Look at them, Todd,' he said softly, 'Look at Katie, look at your mom. Look how proud your mom looks of you. Do you think she'd want this?'

The gun wavered again, and more tears fell from Todd's eyes.

He shook his head.

'She wouldn't want you to throw everything you have away over this piece of shit,' Mac said, indicating Eddie, who all this time had continued begging for his life. 'And Katie. Look at her, Todd.'

Todd looked at the photo again.

'She needs you. She's a little girl who needs her big brother. If you kill him, Todd, you'll let her down. Don't do that. Please, don't do that.'

Todd swallowed hard. He lifted the gun back up so it was aimed directly at Eddie's face again. Eddie screamed, 'No man, no! Please!'

'I hope you go to prison and I hope you rot there, you motherfucker,' Todd said, coldly, 'I hope you _suffer_ for the rest of your life. You deserve to die. But I won't kill you.' Todd sneered again, 'You're not worth it, you pathetic little shit. Now put your hands behind your head so that he can cuff you.'

Eddie, bursting into loud sobs, did so. Todd kept the gun on him, but aimed at his knee, making it silently clear that he wasn't going to kill him, but would shoot him if he tried anything. Mac cuffed Eddie, and said,

'Give me the weapon now, Todd.'

Todd nodded. Mac, leaving Eddie sobbing and cuffed on the floor, moved the two feet to Todd and took the gun the young Marine held out without resistance. As soon as he had it, he radioed for the cops surrounding the building to stand down. Flack and Hansen entered and Hansen took Todd's weapon while Flack helped up Eddie and led him out. He met Mac's eyes as he left, and smiled a little. Mac smiled back and held up his hand to signal that he would be a while. Flack nodded and left.

Mac and Todd were alone in the room.

As Mac turned back to Todd, the young man collapsed to his knees, tears pouring down his face, his entire body shaking. All the anger of before was gone, and he seemed only shocked and lost and scared.

Mac knelt by him and Todd leaned into his shoulder sobbing.

'Shit, Mac, I nearly killed him, I nearly killed him.'

'It's okay, Todd. You _didn't_ kill him.'

Mac put one arm round Todd and held him as he cried. Eventually, his tears eased off, and he pulled back from Mac, rubbing at his eyes. Mac helped him stand.

'Thank you,' Todd said softly, his voice still shaking, 'Thank you for coming for me.'

Mac just nodded.

'I want to see Katie,' Todd said, 'and Kara. Can we go see them?'

'Of course,' Mac said, 'You did the right thing for Katie today, Todd, and for yourself. Whatever happens with Walsh, you should know that.'

Todd nodded, wiping at his eyes, and together he and Mac left the warehouse. Mac felt relief flood him. This time, at least, everyone was coming out of the situation alive.

xxxx

A week later.

Eddie Walsh was in jail awaiting trial. Despite the attempts of his lawyer, the young thug would be facing a charge of murder.

It was early evening and Mac was heading over to the Medical Examiner's office when he met Todd, Kara, and Katie outside the lab.

'Mac!' said Katie happily, running to him and hugging him.

'Hey, Katie,' Mac said gently, returning the hug.

'We were just coming to see you,' Katie said, 'I wrote you this,' she handed him a piece of paper.

'Can I read it now?'

'No, you have to save it for later,' she ordered. Mac chuckled.

'Okay, if you say so.' he said.

She grinned at him.

Mac stood as Todd and Kara reached him. Kara hugged him.

'Thank you,' she whispered into his ear.

'You're welcome,' Mac said, not entirely sure what she was thanking him for.

'For looking for Todd and Katie,' Kara added as if understanding his uncertainty.

'Thanks, Mac,' Todd said, offering his hand, which Mac shook. 'I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you. Thank you, for everything. It means a lot.'

His eyes locked with Mac's, and Mac was touched at the sincerity he saw there.

'You're welcome, Todd. You're a fine young man, with a wonderful family,' he indicated Kara and Katie. 'Your mom would be proud.'

'I know,' Todd said softly.

They talked for a while longer, Todd explaining that he and Katie would be moving in with Kara, and that he had applied to join the NYPD. Mac smiled, he suspected Todd would make an excellent cop.

Todd, Kara and Katie left, Katie waving goodbye until they disappeared from sight. Mac watched them go, smiling. He opened Katie's letter. It read:

'Dear Mac,

Thank you for being so nice and understanding to me and not treating me like a little kid. Thank you for helping me and for helping Todd. I wish I could give you something to show how gratefull I am to you, but I can't think of anything. But I do think that you are a very nice man, and also that you are very lonely. You are too nice to be lonely. I feel lonely without my Mom, so does Todd, but we have each other, and Todd has Kara. He is like crazy in love with her. So I think you should have someone like that. I think you should have a girlfriend. I know you loved your wife, Claire, loads and loads and loads, and that you are so sad and lonely now she's gone, like I am about my Mom. But you desserve to be happy. You should have a girlfriend. Kissing and stuff is icky, I think, but a girlfriend can be there for you when you are sad and make things better. I hope you will find a nice pretty lady to be your girlfriend and make you not be lonely anymore.

Love from your friend,

Katie. xxxxxxx.

Mac smiled. Katie was right, and the letter settled his doubts about what he was about to do.

xxxx

Mac tapped lightly on the doorframe as he entered.

Jane looked up from Giles' desk, where she was sorting a mountain of files into a box by her feet.

She looked a little tired, and a few strands of her blonde hair had fallen forward across her face, which, Mac thought, made her look even prettier.

'Mac,' she said warmly, smiling at him.

He smiled back.

'You look a little tired, Jane,' he said.

'I can't believe Leonard made such a mess of his desk again. I only tidied it the other day. Anyway, what can I do for you, Mac?' she asked, brushing the loose strands of hair back behind her ears.

Mac hesitated for a second, then said,

'I...do you like pizza?'

Jane looked a little surprised.

'Yes,' she said, 'Especially the ones with lots of toppings.'

'Would you...would you like to go for one now? I know a great little place. I think you'd love it,'

In the few seconds it took her to answer, Mac felt more nervous and unsure of himself than he had in a long time.

'Just us?' Jane said, and Mac saw a pleased glitter in her eyes that made him smile.

'Yes. Just us.'

'Like a date?' she asked, her tone playful, flirty, and a little nervous too.

Mac felt a slight blush warm his cheeks, but his smile widened.

'Yes, like a date,' he said, softly.

Jane's eyes lit up, and she grinned at him.

'I'd love to,' she said.

Mac couldn't help himself as he grinned at her.

She stood and grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair. Together they left the building. As they stepped out into the street, the cold November wind gusted at them. Mac felt it's chill on the tips of his ears and fingers. But he found he didn't care. The cold, the darkness of the case he and the team had just solved, the responsibilities that awaited him back at the lab - in this instant, none of it mattered to Mac. Not right now.

The End.


End file.
